


Jerk

by mmmdraco



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Autoerotic Asphyxiation, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 12:52:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmdraco/pseuds/mmmdraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a yellow shirt in Ochi's usual bathroom stall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jerk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KRIM (Krim)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krim/gifts).



> Written for the [Hikago Day Drabble Exchange](http://hikarunogo.dreamwidth.org/82858.html).

Ochi wasn't sure why he'd found the shirt in the bathroom stall, his usual, but he knew exactly whose it was. No one else wore anything that tacky, that vile, that yellow. Still, he'd come into the bathroom for a reason, so he unzipped his pants, pulling them and his underwear down and taking a seat, the obnoxious shirt still sitting on the tank behind him. He took a deep breath and wrapped a hand around himself, starting a rhythm of shallow strokes. 

Damn Shindou, anyway, for all of his confidence. He had a bad habit of looking intently at the board whenever he played and then Ochi would get all caught up in his rhythm and he'd stare (even from across the room) and have to pretend like he was distracted for another reason. But, that stupid attitude that only came out when he was playing go... That was why Ochi was here now, jacking off. Leaning his head back, he tried not to enjoy it, but it was too late. He was close enough to the shirt to smell Shindou's scent on it and his cock seemed to throb with the realization. Ochi scowled and reached back with his free hand to grasp the edge of the shirt, pulling it over his shoulder where he let it sit as he continued to play with himself, teasing his foreskin right along the bottom of his glans and inhaling deeply. It wasn't enough.

He turned his head to let his face press against the shirt, and the scent... Ochi had never been so close to it before, breathing in everything that made up Shindou from his natural scent to the splashes of ramen broth down his shirt. A moment later, even that wasn't enough. He lifted the shirt to his face, pressing it tightly against his nose and mouth, breathing through it so that he was panting for more almost before the previous air had reached his lungs. He was light-headed and his wrist was growing sore from a day of laying stones with a snap and now jerking himself to the smell of Shindou's shirt in the bathroom. So close... He was riding the edge of his orgasm, the fingers on the shirt clutching it and twisting it tightly against his lips, and then he smelled something else just as he was overwhelmed. He dropped the shirt in his lap as he came and stared at it. 

That was Waya's cologne... and Waya's scent with it. Had they...? It explained the shirt in the bathroom, at least. Ochi's eyes shut tight, trying to shut out the bits of his vision that seemed to swirl from the lack of oxygen. His fingers were sticky under Shindou's shirt now, and the shirt... Ochi wondered how he was going to explain it, then realized he didn't have to. He cleaned himself up with the shirt and stood up, flushing the toilet after fixing his pants. Opening the door, he checked that no one else was in the bathroom before moving to the trash can and throwing the shirt away, scowling. He held his head high as he left. Next time he found himself looking at Shindou, he'd work harder to find something else to occupy his mind.


End file.
